AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Her eyes take an obvious dip below the belt and Yasha actually chuckles.Hook. Line. Sinker.He doesn’t even know how fast Jorden is reeling him in yet. Poor guy.
“She hasn’t even had a drink yet,” Francia grumbles to me.
The music is making my ears numb, Francia and Jorden are already at odds, and my head of security is going to spend most of the night fending off advances from people within my own party. And we haven’t even made it past the entryway.
“Let’s find the bar!” I yell, urging us all forward. “Let’s dive in and see where the night takes us.”
My enthusiasm wanes moments later when I’m trying to navigate through the herds of people. By the time I get to the bar, I’m sweaty and Yasha is the only one still with me. He stayed purposefully close; I suspect Ivan is responsible for that. But Francia and Jorden got lost in the crush.
“Do you see them?” I ask him.
“Jorden just put a dollar down the pants of a man who is definitely not a stripper.” There’s a tinge of jealousy in his voice. “And Francia snagged an open table. She’s under the projector ordering from a waitress.”
I should have gone with Francia. One glance behind the bar is all it takes to see that it is going to be a long wait for a drink. Besides, I’m not even sure if I’m allowed to drink here. Going to the bar was just the only thing I could think to do.
I tug on Yasha’s arm, tearing his eyes away from where Jorden is already busy making new friends. “Anya told me yesterday not to drink anything unless you’d checked it.”
“You should be safe here,” he promises. “Rooster and Legs know what’s going on and they told me they personally vouch for the safety of everything.”
I watch the bartender closest grab two bottles, twirl them, and then fill a line of shot glasses. In that same five-second span, another bartender next to her fills a beer and slides a pink mixed drink down the length of the countertop.
There are so many bottles and glasses and different drinks. Even if I start off paying close attention, I’ll lose my edge by the third or fourth drink. Besides, I have a feeling I should stay sober if I’m going to navigate the social waters I’m in tonight.
“I think I’ll be safe rather than sorry,” I tell him. “Maybe just a bottle of water?”
He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a plastic water bottle. “Have mine. I already tested it for you. Definitely not poisoned.” He grabs my shoulders and points me towards the table. “You go sit down. I’m going to go wrangle your friend before she gets herself into trouble.”
Jorden doesn’t look like she’s in trouble. She is somehow already toasting a round of shots with a group of people I’ve never laid eyes on before.
Ivan should have chosen her, I think.
He wouldn’t have to work so hard to make people believe he was into Jorden. She attracts people. It’s some kind of magnetism in her that draws everyone in.
I’ve never been good at that part—meeting people, staying in touch. I bounced around from my Dad’s house to shelters to my stepdad’s house to my shitty apartment… Needless to say, scraping and clawing to put food in my mouth and a roof over my head doesn’t leave a lot of time for me to make close friends.
It’s part of the reason I hold Francia and Jorden so close. They’re the closest things I’ve ever had to best friends.
Yasha sees me to the table and then dives back into the crowd after Jorden. Ivan would probably remind him that Jorden is not his priority, but I love that he’s taking good care of my friends, too. Even if his motives fall more in line with keeping Jorden away from other men than protecting her from harm.
I drop down next to Francia. “No drink?” she asks.
“The bar was way too busy.”
She eyes my water bottle and then turns back to the crowd. “I talked to a waitress and ordered everyone something.” If she’s trying to hide her grimace, she’s doing a terrible job.
Francia has always been a little… proper. Jorden would saystuck-up, but that’s because she didn’t know the girls I was a debutante with. I saw them shun lifelong friends because they wore the wrong kind of dress to a tea party.
Francia just knows what she likes and she’s honest about what she doesn’t. It’s a good quality in the right circumstances. Right now, though, it would be better if she had more of a poker face.
“I really am sorry about this,” I tell her again. “I know this isn’t your scene, but—”
She waves me off. “No, I’m sorry. I’m being an asshole. I’m like a cat, I think. Leave me in a room alone for long enough and I start to go feral. I forgot how to interact with other humans.”
“I’m sorry about that, too.”
“I haven’t been killed by one of Ivan’s crazed ex-girlfriends, so I count myself lucky.”
I blow out a breath. “He’s really doing everything he can to take care of me—ofus. All of this. He’s trying to figure out who might be after me, and as soon as he does, you’ll be perfectly safe.”
